


An Incident on Lake Shore Drive

by aerye



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-27
Updated: 2011-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerye/pseuds/aerye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspiration piece: Cuthbert Banks was young, handsome, and plus four on the Wood Hills links, but he could make no impression on the soulful girl of his heart until Vladimir Brusilof, the eminent Russian novelist, kissed him before the entire Literary Society; after which Adeline's attitude changed from scorn to adoration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Incident on Lake Shore Drive

Eleanor Wodehouse was known for her birthday parties. It was a bit of a tradition along Lake Shore Drive. Indeed, the entire Wodehouse family was famous throughout Chicago for their Christmas and New Year soirées, post Regatta receptions, and Fourth of July and Memorial Day barbeques. There had been a Wodehouse on every Yacht Club entertainment committee since 1876 (and there hadn't been a committee in 1875), and a Wodehouse on every mayoral inaugural committee (at least during the Republican years). The Wodehouses knew how to entertain, and did it well--even during that unpleasantness with Prohibition their parties were well known as a brightest diamond on the crown of Chicago society. The Chicago Tribune simply did not go to print on the Magazine until they had consulted with Gabby, Eleanor's personal assistant.

Thus it was that Eleanor did not consider it so much a stroke of good fortune as the proper order of things that the Chicago International Arts Festival should fall so closely to Cuthbert Bank’s birthday. Cuthbert--Cutty to his friends, among which Eleanor counted herself, ever since her second marriage to Bertie--fancied himself a bit of a poet and was known to compose a verse or two off the top of his head, although generally after three or four scotches, and generally about prowess of his boat, or the fine curve of a woman's leg. Cutty was fast approaching his thirtieth, which meant something grand was in order, something even better than Eleanor's anniversary party for the Mulliners, which had been universally touted as "the best anniversary party in memory," and had indirectly saved at least one marriage, with Eleanor's promise to host the Wickham's twenty-fifth.

And so it was that when Eleanor saw the article about the arts festival in the Tribune, she immediately began to see the possibilities for Cutty's birthday. She would host a poetry reading, to be attended by all of Chicago's intellectual elite—as well as hers and Cutty's friends, of course. Her satisfaction with her plan only increased when she read about the festival’s featured artist, one Vladimir Brusilof, recently emigrated to Canada and the author of several collections of poetry. He was considered to be quite a genius--at least according to the Trib’s arts editor--if somewhat salacious and occasionally seditious. (Eleanor herself did not read poetry, although she prided herself on her ability to pick a good greeting card. She read sparingly, and generally depended on audio books—Eleanor felt that most books benefited from a quiet but solid British accent.)

Indeed, Vladimir Brusilof couldn’t have been more perfect. He was tall, but not too tall—Eleanor thought tall poets, indeed overly tall men in general, seemed somehow excessive, and certainly not poetic. Brusilof was dark—dark hair, dark eyes, the entire Heathcliff package—and although he wasn't Irish (which really would have been perfect, just perfect), he was Russian, and not just some American from out East. His accent was strong and rather defiantly Romantic, and best of all, he was a homosexual—they could say what they wanted about her UC degree; she was as sophisticated as any alum from Smith.

When Gabby informed Eleanor that the Canadian Consulate was concerned about security, due to some recent threats against Brusilof (some political thing about unrest in Georgia, a sentiment Eleanor could certainly sympathize with. Say what you want about gentility and culture, Eleanor had no use for the South), Eleanor got that wonderful giddy feeling she generally experienced only when drinking gin or shopping at Marshall Field’s, and realized this was shaping up into the event of the season. Security required that a Mountie accompany Brusilof to the party—in one of those marvelous uniforms, no less—and she had Gabby contact the caterer immediately to make sure that the hor d’ouerves wouldn't clash with bright red. When she finally got to meet him the night of the party, she knew that Constable Benton Fraser was just the perfect _accoutrement_ for her party. He was charming and obliging, entertaining if a bit odd, and he seemed to know absolutely everything about Brusilof, even reciting a favorite poem when prompted by the author himself.

In fact, the only dim spark in the bright pinwheel of her triumph was the decidedly unpleasant Chicago police officer that also accompanied Mr. Brusilof and Constable Fraser that evening. Unlike Constable Fraser, who was exceedingly polite and very gracious, Detective Raymond Vecchio (who didn't look a bit Italian in her opinion, and she'd been to the Riviera) arrived sullen and remained that way for most of the evening.

Brusilof had agreed to read three different pieces, and while the first two were rather dull, tediously going on and on about injustice and poverty and the rights of the little man, the third was wonderful, a rousing and erotic paean about young and gorgeous men. Eleanor noticed with some delight that her audience was both shocked and a bit titillated—always a good sign that the party would be remembered—and that Brusilof seemed to be directing his performance right at the Constable, who despite his efforts to appear composed, had turned a lovely shade of pink that looked splendid with his dress uniform. The poem ended abruptly, with a flourish and some language that even took Eleanor aback, and then Brusilof turned, captured his blushing bodyguard by the arm, and kissed him, a kiss that made most of the men squirm a bit, but one that Eleanor knew she would remember for quite some time. Then her partygoers burst into applause and Eleanor knew the spectacle, unplanned as it was, had assured her a position as society hostess _extraordinaire_ for quite some time to come.

The rest of the party was the usual sort of thing. Cutty, after blowing out all thirty candles on his cake with enormous aplomb, composed several off the cuff limericks about the evening, with several references to “the Mountie” and “his bounty,” and an abundance of winking. Hugh Aberthon did his usual soliloquy on the rise and fall of American horse racing, and Sissy Bernard got tipsy and fell in the pool, turning her white silk sheath almost transparent—a fact she rather predictably pointed out to most of the men in attendance.

The party was just beginning to wind down when Eleanor, on the way to the kitchen to check with the caterer about more caviar for Mr. Brusilof—who was evidently somewhat bisexual after several vodkas—noticed the Constable and Detective Vecchio having an animated discussion in the hallway by the pantry. At first Eleanor thought to be alarmed, as the detective certainly appeared to be upset, his voice sharp and insistent, even if it was rather frustratingly low to hear clearly. He was gesturing with his hands (perhaps he _was_ Italian), and stabbing the air with his finger, coming closer and closer to the Constable’s chest until finally he made contact with the Constable’s dress uniform. At which point the Constable turned to leave (and Eleanor had to duck around the corner to keep from being seen), and Detective Vecchio reached out and grabbed him by the arm, swinging him around until he was pressed up against the wall, and Detective Vecchio was pressed up against him. And if Eleanor thought the kiss between the Constable and Brusilof had been intense, it was nothing compared to what she was seeing now. Detective Vecchio’s hands were on Constable Fraser’s face and the Constable’s arms were around him, hands gripping the back of Vecchio’s suit coat, and when they finally parted, Eleanor could hear the Constable murmuring _Ray, Ray, Ray…_

Unfortunately, the caterer chose that very moment to find her, and after that she got called out to the pool again, where Freddie Dentsworth and Johnny May had taken to racing Eleanor’s Bichon Frise against Madeline’s Maltese, with somewhat disastrous results. Eleanor did see both Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio later, but although Detective Vecchio no longer appeared quite so sullen, and perhaps the Constable was a tad less unflappable, there was really very little about them to remark on. Later, they both thanked for her invitation, propping a singing Brusilof up between them as they left. She did think they looked rather too happy for public servants.

In the aftermath of the party, Eleanor discovered Bertie was having an affair with Sissy Bernard, and after a protracted divorce, settled for several millions and an apartment on the New East Side. Hugh Aberthon was indicted for embezzlement and was removed from most party lists, and Gabby started wearing black and left Eleanor for a job in New York City. She was replaced by a young French girl named Babette. Eleanor lost touch with Cutty after her divorce but later heard that he had moved to Canada, and was often seen about town with the poet Vladimir Brusilof.

Constable Benton Fraser and his partner, Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski Vecchio, moved to Canada and lived happily ever after.

But Eleanor didn’t know anything about that.


End file.
